


What to do with the girl in the trunk

by da34amadeo



Category: Let Me Make You a Martyr (2016)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da34amadeo/pseuds/da34amadeo
Summary: One wants to assume Pope let's the girl live. It's what he does with her that's hard to figure. The man likes order.





	What to do with the girl in the trunk

**Author's Note:**

> Rooney is only six but one senses she's not yet broken. She is far from resigned to her fate. Goofy fucker that I am I think he'll keep her.He'll see the potential in her. It's a father child relationship so don't get excited. They'll be no naked Manson here. At least not in regards to Rooney. There may be more if my fragile brain cooperates but for now its done

Rooney is the girls name. She eyes him warily from across the table. Cautious around him and she hasn't spoken a word as of yet.  
Still she's eaten the sandwich he'd given her. Ignored the milk but she took his water pushing the glass of milk over as if in trade.  
He'd brought her to his hideaway as a reflex. A thing to consider for later. He has no idea what to do with her.  
Pope thinks carefully. It's not a quick and public thing his decision making .  
He looks her over cautiously from his side of the table.  
She appears at least structurally sound . No marks or bruises . The dress he found her in isn't right for the weather and she looks rumpled and tired. Nothing unusual for someone who's ridden around in the trunk of a shitty car for who knows how long. 

He feels a burst of anger at all the people who put this precious girl in his reluctant care.  
The anger is not productive so he pushes it away.  
He's cleaned house as best he can.Restoring order amongst the chaos.  
No more Hondo  
.No more Larry .  
He'll do further work as necessary. She pushes her empty plate away from herself.  
Pope can't help smiling at her.She's got a smear of jelly across her cheek.She is a cute kid.  
“Let's get you cleaned up ? “ he realizes he has no idea how independent she is .For now he settles for taking her to the sink to wash her hands and face. She scrunches up her face then shivers.  
“ You cold?” she nods and he brings her one of his shirts . It fits her like a robe and the socks he gives her are ridiculously large . He leads her over to his couch and she settles against it's sagging cushions . As he covers her with a blanket as she blinks sleepily. “Are you going to take care of me ?”She asks it with a sort of weariness a child shouldn't feel.  
The question gives him pause . Luckily she's already asleep before he can formulate his answer .  
He will take care of her in whatever way seems necessary. Even if it means taking her out. The people she comes from are broken early. It would spare her that at least.  
Still he'd sensed a intelligence in her that might be crafted into something better. There's risk of all kinds .If he's ever found out they put him away for it. She a girl, one that may have already been violated. He's not sure and he won't subject her to that kind of examination. Not by his own hands.  
He spends the long night watching and contemplating and as morning comes he has a plan.  
He's scrounged up clothes and better shoes. As luck would have it Squirt had shown up early with the mail fetching him his list of needs before she even wakes . Rooney seems happy enough with the jeans and tshirt. The shoes are a bit big but they’re better than the shitty plastic shoes she had been wearing.  
He watches her as she scarfs down another sandwich. As she finishes the food he realizes she's watching him back. Its disconcerting. The the watcher being watched. He leans back in his chair pulling himself away from her fiery gaze. This one has a born rage in her.Hes pleased with his decision.  
She's seen to much too soon in life. He hopes he can teach her to channel that inborn rage constructively.  
“You gonna take me home? “ she asks  
“Can’t .” he answers and waits for her reply.  
She considers it carefully sharp eyes searching his face.  
“June and Drew?” she asks.  
“Gone .” he replies with a casual wave. He thinks she's asking questions she already knows the answer to. Testing him for duplicity.  
“Ok .” That's all that's ever said of her former life.  
They both habitually speak in few careful words. They have a similar nature and routine comes easier than he thought ,food and wash and sleep falling into order.  
He goes about his life with the girl by his side. No one questions her presence . For one he's Pope. His manner suggests he is not one with whom to fuck.  
Other than that it's the general apathy of the people around him. They don't care . It's just a small tender child . Forgotten In the rush of more current news.Nothing of importance. It makes him angry if he think about it so he doesn't.  
The lessons he has to teach her come easy too. She watches with her sharp eyes as the shot cracks and the rabbit give a final abortive lurch before falling still.  
“Why did you do that?” she scowls at him.  
“There's no chicken around here baby girl . We got to eat.” She doesn't reply but follows him to the lump of fur.  
They kneel over the little corpse. She pokes at it with a finger making the blood leak out. Tiny hands stroke over the soft fur.  
Her scowl turn to a frown. “It's not here.” she tells him staring up at him. “It's not a bunny anymore.”  
“Nope.” he answers “It's just meat and fur and bones”  
“ How do we get its fur off?” she asks head cocked in confusion.  
“I'll show you. “ he tells her hiding his laughter. He hides too his pleasure in her response to the lesson.How quickly she accepts the practicality of it all.  
He shows her how to gut it and skin it . Fingers poke at the viscera and smears of blood. Curiosity does not take morbidity into consideration.Later he’ll show her how to treat its hide. When night comes she sleeps clutching the tail like a stuffed toy. A streak of blood graces her perfect skin .

She grows mind and body . Eventually she calls him Daddy or Daddy Pope when she's displeased with him. He takes over an old cabin. A better shelter than his previous hideaway. She learns not just her ABC’s or how to count.  
She learns the peace and brutality of his world. It suits her in her scuffed jeans and often bare toes. She fits in the woods like she was born to it. It's only under the harsh light of the random public places does she seem Ill at ease clutching his hand, wary eyes watching the world around her.  
He blinks and she's nine .Then twelve,fourteen . She stitches him up after a bad job. Searching fingers pull the bullet from his flesh with the same sureness as she skins a rabbit or aims the rifle he's given her.  
“Daddy Pope. “ he peeks one eye open. She is not pleased. “ I know you're up. “  
He sighs and gives up pretense . “How long have I been out?”  
She shrugs “It's dark.Squirts gone home. “ She gives him water and a pill from the litter of bottles on the table.  
“Rabbits won't hunt themselves .” She leaves him without another word to fend for himself.  
It isn't till the deepest hours of the night that she crawls into the bed with him, leaning into his side, careful of his wound.  
“You can't . You can't do that again daddy. You just can't. “ Her small frame shakes with tension.  
“ I'm not looking too baby girl “ he reassures her. He's not finished but he is slowing down. He doesn't know how much longer he'll be able to keep doing what he does. After this he’ll be far more careful in the jobs he takes.Lesson learned.  
Rooney's frame slowly stops it shivering and he feels her relax into sleep. Leaving him time for uncomfortable reflection.  
He won't be able to keep her from the rest of the world if he's dead. Puberty and all it trials and Joys will arrive before he can stop it. She's already had her first menses . Things will surely have to change.  
She'll want more from life than to hide in the woods with him. She deserves her freedom. A family. A life. He's selfish in his possession of her. He Hope's he hasn't kept these things from her. He sighs drifting to sleep with the smell of the woods in her hair a strange comfort.

The days he dreads arrive in a rather undramatic fashion. She's sixteen. All legs and slender muscle. Smart and capable.She hunts without hesitation.She cuts wood and cleans . She does anything that needs to be done with efficiency and grace.His pride in her swells at the most unexpected moments. 

She's taken to a boy that's come out of only God knows where. Some acquaintance of Squirt and company .The boys as beautiful as she is, if a bit scruffy . He thinks it a factor of his age that all young people seem beautiful .  
In fact he feels ancient as he approaches not yet seen. The boy leans forward to snatch a kiss . Rooney accepts it with a smile . He considers leaving her to her privacy as much as he considers taking him out for touching his child.He's frozen like the rabbits she hunts .Looking not to be noticed.Afraid for reasons he does not understand.  
The boy unaware is emboldened by his triumph and lurches toward her.  
He jumps back just as quickly and Pope laughs.His stillness broken. She acted far quicker than either he or the boy expected. Her blade slips back into the side of her jeans as fast as it left. “That's more than enough.” she snaps. The boy leaves rather unceremoniously .Tail between his legs and wearing a sheepish expression. He wonders if the boy will come back for more.  
Later as they eat dinner she seems somewhat preoccupied. “Daddy . You got a friend ? “  
“I've got you. “ he replies .  
She scowls. “I'm talking about a special friend. “  
Her take no prisoners gaze tells him she knows he knows what she meant.  
So he gives up but takes time to thinks out his answer. His needs have been met over the years. Partners carefully chosen for convenience and lack of attachment. Rigorous attention to the prevention of a child that might get left behind.He’ll not make another Rooney unawares.  
“I've never felt the need.” he answers finally. He truly hasn't. He lives for the darkness of the woods and blood on his hands .Cool darkness under the trees. His answer seems to satisfy her.Pope's blood thunders in his ears. He know she deserves whatever life she wants. Even though it hurts to think about.  
She sighs “I remember. About Mommy's and Daddies.Haven’ babies.Other stuff too. “ her eyes slide away from his. “The world is different outside of the woods.”  
“It is.” he agrees . If she's ready to leave him.  
he simply hopes he has armed her both figuratively and literally to deal with that harsh and all to bright world.  
Still he dreads the day she steps out into that light without him. He's terrified that day is looming upon him.  
She pulls a tattered piece of paper from her pocket. “I found this .” She turns it towards him .  
His heart lurches painfully in his chest. It's a missing flyer with her face. Age progression and all  
“I Remember. Looking up at you from the trunk of a car. You fed me . You took care of me. I suppose it means you kidnapped me. “ She sighs again sounding more irritated than sad  
” That's how they'll see it. But I remember before that too. Before June took me. Your not my captor. Your my savior. “ there's no hint of idolatry in her voice It's a simple statements of fact.  
He doesn't know what to say. “That world is yours as much as this one . If that's where you want to be. “ He tells her . His voice soft and careful not to guide her choice.  
“I don't care much about boys and girls and sex all that .There's time for it if I feel the need.”  
She gives an dismissive wave of her hand . The gesture is familiar and finds himself comforted by it.His gesture in her hand.  
She consults the paper “I'll be 18 in about 20 months . They cant make me leave after that. “ She pushes the paper away . Done with it.  
The relief he feels is embarrassing and a bit overwhelming.  
He had fooled himself over the years that she'd forgotten before .  
They've never talked about it.  
She's never woken in the night with trauma in her eyes  
. He's never asked her how she ended up in the trunk of the car he drove.  
None of it had seemed important. His focus has been on sharing his view of the world . Teaching her to navigate through it with strength from inside herself. He's done well he thinks. She watches as he does . A born hunter. A killer if need be. He sees the flash of her knife and smiles.


End file.
